


Sometimes When We Touch

by Mystic_Whim



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 12:24:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13271412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystic_Whim/pseuds/Mystic_Whim
Summary: Originally posted in Flamingo's 2017 Advent Calendar.





	Sometimes When We Touch

**_“And sometimes when we touch_ **

**_The honesty's too much_ **

**_And I have to close my eyes and hide…”_ **

**_~Barry Mann, Dan Hill_ **

 

 

 

Jacobson put his pool cue back into the rack and pulled on his jacket, declaring,” I’m gonna call it a night.  I’ve lost enough of my money to you two.  Macer, you ready to head out?  Let’s give Starsky and Hutch a chance to get themselves a room.  They been hangin’ on each other all night.”  He gave Hutch a wink to indicate he was only kidding him, but it annoyed him just the same.

 

“Ah Jacobson, you’re just jealous that we kicked your ass tonight,” Starsky smiled.  He was leaning into Hutch as he counted his cash winnings from the other two police officers.  He passed half of the money to his partner.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll give you a chance to win it back next week.”.

 

When the other two men left their company, Hutch shook his head.  Under his breath he muttered, “Always gotta make it sexual.”

 

“What?” Starsky asked as he tucked their pool winnings into his wallet and shoved it back into his pocket.  He slipped onto the bar stool next to Hutch, now left vacant by Jacobson.  They were currently the only patrons in this area of the bar.

 

“Us.  Telling us to get a room.  They always have to turn it into something sexual.”  He downed the remainder of his near empty beer and waggled the empty at the bartender, indicating he needed a refill.

 

“It’s not like it isn’t,” Starsky chuckled, sliding his empty over to the bartender as well.

 

Startled, Hutch looked at Starsky.  “What do you mean?”

 

Starsky gave him a big smile.  “What?  You mean it never is?  All our touching.  You never feel anything?  You never get even a little turned on?  A little titillation?   Nothing?”

 

Hutch just stared at him, taken completely by surprise.  “I…uh..”  His mind flashed to a number of times Starsky’s touch had elicited a response.  He was unsure he should tell his partner this.  “Are you saying that my touch turns you on?”  He could tell by the expression on his partner’s face that it did.  Starsky leaned on the bar, his shirt half open, his ass half on and half off the bar stool, looking so comfortable, and so completely amused with him.

 

“Sure it does.  Sometimes.  You gonna tell me you never feel anything when I touch you?”

 

Hutch blinked.  He wondered if he just saw disappointment in Starsky’s eyes.  “Starsk, if that’s so, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

 

Starsky took a drink of his beer.  “What for?  Only two things could’ve come from that.  Either you’d stop… Or you’d go with it.  I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.”

 

“Not ready to stop or not ready to go with it?” Hutch questioned.  Starsky just smiled, but there was something else there in his eyes, something that looked hungry.

 

“I don’t want you to stop,” he said with assurance. 

 

Without thinking about it, he reached out and touched Starsky’s arm as he asked, “Wait, my touch turns you on, but you don’t want me to stop?”

 

Starsky looked at him and laughed.  “No, I don’t want you to stop.  I like that you touch me all the time. Makes me feel good.”  He shrugged.  “Hell, Hutch, if an attractive woman touched you, and it turned you on, would you tell her to stop?”

 

“Are you saying you find me attractive?”

 

Starsky’s smile broadened and his eyes twinkled.  “You kidding?  Of course you’re attractive.  You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met.  You look like one of those statues in Rome or something.  Like some artist ought to sculpt you.”

 

Hutch sat back and downed a healthy gulp of beer.  His mind was reeling.  Attractive?  It never occurred to him that his partner would think he was attractive.  Not his macho partner.  Not Starsky. 

 

“Maybe that’s why you don’t feel anything when I touch you,” Starsky mused.  “If you don’t find me attractive, my touch isn’t going to affect you.”

 

“I never said that,” Hutch protested.  “I never said I didn’t feel anything.  And I never said I didn’t find you attractive.”  He looked at Starsky, half leaning on the bar, and shook his head with a smile.  “Starsk, you are attractive.  More than that.  You’re sexy.  You have an aura of sensuality around you.  Hell, look at you!  You’re stretched out like a cat. You look like you’re almost laying against the bar, with your shirt half open, looking like you’d be perfectly content if someone came up and ran their hands all over your body.”

 

Starsky looked amused as hell.  He took another drink of his beer, and their eyes met and held.  He didn’t lower his beer bottle, leaving it close to his lips, and asked, “Run their hands all over my body?   I probably _would_ be content with it.  If they were the right hands.”  His eyes smiled as he took another drink.

 

Hutch suddenly felt embarrassed for saying that to his partner.  He was feeling awkward, yet he felt happy, too.  He liked that Starsky thought of him as attractive.  It also made him feel good that Starsky didn’t want him to stop touching him, in spite of the fact that the touch turned him on at times.  He let his eyes roam over his partner’s body, from head to toe.  He had a mental image of slipping his hand inside of Starsky’s open shirt, and running his hand down his chest, down his abdomen, to the waistband of his jeans...

 

“Whatcha thinking?”  Starsky asked quietly.  Hutch met his eyes and thought they looked darker than usual.

 

“I was thinking that I like being able to touch you,” Hutch replied, his voice soft.  “I’d be upset if you told me to stop.”

 

Starsky hesitated before speaking.  Finally, he asked, “Would you be upset if I asked you to do it more?”

 

“No.”  Hutch wondered if he answered too quickly.  He felt a tingling heat spread through his body, hovering in his chest.   He drew in a deep breath, understanding Starsky had just given him an invitation, and he had just accepted.  Starsky touched his shoulder and squeezed, and Hutch could feel the hot tingling in his chest shoot to his groin, then gradually spread down his arms and thighs to his toes.  He looked at Starsky’s hand and said, “I felt _that_.”  Then he looked to Starsky.

 

Starsky took one look at him and said, “I can see that.  I’ve never seen you look at me like that.” Starsky grinned.  “You want to get out of here?”

 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

They left the bar, and they both climbed into Hutch’s car.  Hutch rolled down his driver’s side window.  “Sorry.  I’m taking it in tomorrow to get the air fixed.”

 

Starsky followed suit, then turned in his seat.  He had his left leg curled up on the seat, his right straight out.  His right arm was along the car door, his left along the back of the seat.  He leaned back into the corner where the seat met the door, lounged back, watching Hutch.  A warm breeze flitted through the window, and Starsky inhaled deeply of the cooler air.

 

Hutch reached for the ignition, then stopped, meeting Starsky’s watchful gaze.  The breeze reached him, carrying with it the faint scent of Starsky’s sandalwood aftershave.  Hutch suddenly reached out and grabbed Starsky by the shirt and hauled him close, very close.  “I want to kiss you,” Hutch said in a low voice. 

 

“What’s stopping you?” Starsky asked quietly. 

 

Hutch looked at him, fear and excitement racing through his veins.  “I…I’ve never..”  He looked at Starsky’s lips then kissed him gently, tenderly, in dramatic contrast to the aggression he displayed when he grabbed his partner.  Starsky’s hand caressed his face, and Hutch felt a loving warmth calm his nerves. 

 

Ending the kiss, Starsky pulled back a little and was looking at Hutch’s lips.  “I like kissing you,” he murmured, as he lightly ran his fingers over Hutch’s lower lip.  Hutch kissed his fingertips, then ran his tongue against the pads of his fingers.  Starsky was staring at him, looking hypnotized by his actions.  This emboldened Hutch to suck Starsky’s finger into his mouth, sucking and licking at the finger, never breaking eye contact with his partner.   Starsky’s eyes turned very dark, and his breath was coming faster, and this visible arousal made Hutch rock hard.  He slowly sucked to the end of Starsky’s finger and kissed the tip before he set it free.  Starsky kissed him again, more passionately this time, the kiss bolder, deeper, hungrier.  He felt Starsky rise to his knees without breaking the kiss, climbing into his lap, his knees straddling Hutch’s hips. 

 

He unbuttoned the few fastened buttons on Starsky’s shirt and ran his hands over his chest.  He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, kissing his chest.  As he kissed and sucked Starsky’s nipple, he slid his hands down to his ass and squeezed. 

 

Starsky’s hands went into Hutch’s hair, forcing his head back, and he plundered his lips with a searing kiss, sending intense arousal straight to Hutch’s groin.  Hutch felt like they were soaring as the intensity exploded around them.  His hands explored his partner’s heated flesh, roving over his back, his sides, his ass and thighs.  Starsky buried his face in Hutch’s shoulder, one hand still grasping Hutch’s hair, panting for air.  “My God,” Starsky gasped.  “What are you doing to me?”

 

Hutch kissed his hair, loving the feeling of the springy curls against his cheek.  He tightened his arms around him, his heart pounding in his chest.  “Starsky, I’m out of control,” he softly spoke into his hair.  “I can’t think when you kiss me like that.”

 

Starsky pulled back to see his face and gave him a small laugh.  “You want to think?”

 

Hutch grinned at the twinkling eyes.  “No.  I want to lose myself in your kiss, your touch, your body.  But not here.”  He wiped the perspiration from his forehead.  “I want to take you home with me.”

 

“You’ve got the keys,” Starsky grinned.  “I’m at your mercy.”  He pulled out of Hutch’s embrace and sat back in his seat, running a hand through his hair, his hands visibly shaking.

 

“You okay?” Hutch asked, seeing his hands and fearing that he was scaring his partner.  

 

“What, you kidding?” Starsky laughed.  “You’ve got me so turned on.  I’ve never felt anything like this.  You scare the hell out of me.”  He looked at Hutch with vulnerable eyes.  “How are you so calm?”

 

“Calm?” Hutch grabbed Starsky’s hand and pressed it to his heart.  “You feel that?  Do I seem calm to you?”  His heart was beating wildly in his chest.  “I’m terrified.  And I’m excited.  And I want to rush forward and not look back.” 

 

Starsky pulled him into his arms and held him tight.  Hutch felt his fears and nervousness dissolve, and calming comfort enfolded him.  He could feel Starsky’s tension diminish as well.  They held each other for a long time in the darkness, until Starsky finally spoke.  “Take me home, Hutch.  Take me to your place.”

 

Hutch kissed him one more time, quickly, then groaned when the kiss ended.  He moved back into his seat and started the car.  He looked at Starsky and saw him lounging back in the corner of his seat as he had before.  “No you don’t,” Hutch muttered as he reached out with both hands, seized Starsky’s waistband and leg, and hauled his body close, next to him on the seat.  “That’s better.”

 

Starsky leaned into him, his left arm slung along the back of the seat.  Hutch pulled the car out of its parking spot, and sped off down the road.  His right hand glided along Starsky’s leg as he drove, slipping to his inner thigh, and squeezing his leg. 

 

“Is this okay?” Hutch asked, casting a sideways glance at his partner.

 

“Hutch, I’ve never had a problem with any way you want to touch me.  I’m not about to start now.”

 

Hutch smiled, and continued to run his hand along Starsky’s thigh.  As he did so, Starsky reached for Hutch’s belt.

 

“Um, Starsk?  I’m so nervous right now, if you do that, I’m liable to drive this car right off the road.”

 

Starsky asked him, “Am I making you nervous?”

 

Hutch looked at him.  “You’re making me happy.”

 

Starsky withdrew his hand, and instead curled up on the seat of the car, facing the dash, his head resting on Hutch’s thigh, his hand tucked around Hutch’s leg.

 

Hutch smiled.  He threaded his hand into Starsky’s hair, lazily playing with his curls.  Starsky sighed peacefully, a grin turning up the corner of his mouth.  Hutch felt such affection for the man curled up in his lap. 

 

He pulled up his car in front of Venice Place and parked.  “We’re here,” he said quietly, as he continued to toy with the dark curls.  “You still want to stay?”

 

Starsky rose from Hutch’s lap and faced him.  “More than ever,” he replied in a low voice.   He put his arm around Hutch’s neck and kissed him sweetly.

 

They left the car and entered Hutch’s apartment building.  Starsky entered the apartment first, and stood in the middle of the living room.  Hutch came up behind him, enfolding him in his arms from behind, his hands skimming over his bare chest.  Starsky leaned back into him.  Hutch kissed up his neck, burying his nose into the soft dark curls.  Starsky seemed to tense as Hutch kissed his ear, his tongue dipping deep inside, but he shivered as Hutch whispered into the wetness, “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

Hutch pulled Starsky snuggly into his chest and held him there.  When he finally loosened his grip, he asked, “Do you want a drink?”  At Starsky’s nod, he went to the kitchen to get some beverages.  He returned with a bottle of wine and glasses, to find Starsky lounging on his couch.  The sight of his partner impacted him greatly.  He was just half sitting, half laying on his couch, just as he had done a million times before, but this time naked emotion shone in his eyes.  Hutch sensed, in one glance, Starsky’s desire, his uncertainty, his trust and his wonder.  He used his foot to slide the coffee table away from the couch, to give him more room, and he placed the wine and glasses on the table. 

 

Hutch poured him a glass of wine and brought it to him.  “Starsk, if you have any second thoughts…”  He poured himself a glass.  “You were looking a little…uncertain.”

 

Starsky grinned.  “I’m not uncertain about you.  I’m uncertain on what to do.  Unfamiliar territory, you know?”

 

“I’ll tell you what to do next,” Hutch smiled.  “Try that wine.  My dad sent it to me for my last birthday.  Said to save it for a special occasion.”

 

“Wow, that’s really good,” Starsky exclaimed.  “We ought to get more of this.”

 

Shaking his head, Hutch informed him, “Knowing my dad’s fondness for fine wine, I’m willing to bet this probably costs a week’s pay.”

 

“And you decided to break into it…because of me?” Starsky asked with disbelief.  “Am I that special or are you out of beer?”

 

“There’s a case of Bud in the fridge.”  Hutch said.  He sat on the edge of the couch near Starsky’s hip.  “And you’re that special.”  He gave him a quick kiss. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” Starsky waited for Hutch to nod.  “This… Whatever this is…  Is this just for tonight?  Or are we changing something?  Like for keeps?”

 

Hutch thought for a long moment.  “I don’t think we’re changing anything tonight.  Seems like things changed a long time ago, for both of us, and we’re just now getting around to paying attention to it.  As far as being short term or permanent, I think a change like this is hard to unchange.”

 

“So permanent it is,” Starsky declared.  “I’m good with that.”  He raised his glass to tip it with Hutch’s.  Hutch did clink his glass with Starsky’s, then took both their glasses and set them aside.  He snatched up Starsky’s hand, turning it over so he could place a kiss on his wrist.  He began to kiss and lick along his wrist.  “You’re teasing me,” Starsky complained.

 

Hutch leaned down and claimed his lips, his arms enfolding his partner.  Hutch’s hands were all over Starsky, slipping inside his open shirt, skimming over the path of scars, gliding up his side, over his chest and across his abdomen.  His kisses travelled down Starsky’s neck, across his collarbone down his chest.  He grabbed Starsky’s ass firmly as he kissed down his stomach. 

 

“Oh damn,” Starsky gasped, breathing hard now.  Hutch opened Starsky’s fly, releasing the tightly encased member from its denim prison.  He slowly licked from the base to the head of his penis, snaking his tongue around the head.  Starsky moaned.  Hutch could feel him watching him intently.  He looked up and locked eyes with him, as he sucked Starsky’s cock into his mouth.  Tonguing just under the head, Hutch felt Starsky thrust toward him.  He slid further down, as deep as he could, wrapping his hand around the base, stroking. 

 

Hutch was uncertain if he could take him into his throat.  He shifted his body so he was better positioned right over him and pushed himself down over his cock.  Hutch felt him easily slide completely down his throat as Starsky called out his name. 

 

He slipped his hands under Starsky, grabbing his ass with a firm grasp, as he worked his cock in his throat.  Starsky was growing larger in his mouth, and Hutch knew he wouldn’t last much longer.  His shaft became rigid against his tongue, and his body grew tense.  Hutch felt Starsky’s cock pulsing as he came, his body completely still.  Hutch marveled at the pulsing he could feel.  He pulled back a bit, wanting to taste him, and felt his mouth fill.  He swallowed his essence, bathing him with his tongue until he started to grow sensitive.  He released him from his mouth and hugged his hips, nuzzling his cheek against Starsky’s belly.  Starsky’s hand gently caressed his face.  “Hutch, come here,” Starsky coaxed.

 

Not trusting his aching jaw to work well just yet, Hutch didn’t want to try kissing his partner’s lips.  Instead he climbed further up his body and lay with him, his head upon his chest.  He could hear the wild pounding of Starsky’s heart.  He held him, listening as the beating gradually slowed, mesmerized by the sound. 

 

Starsky threaded his fingers through Hutch’s hair.  “I want to kiss you,” he said plaintively.

 

Hutch moved to give him a gentle kiss, and felt Starsky’s arms wrap firmly around him.  Before Hutch knew what was happening, Starsky had pushed him and the two were now falling.  He threw his arm out and was able to ease them to the floor softly, Starsky piling on top of him, both of them laughing.  “You could’ve just asked to move to the floor,” Hutch laughed.

 

Starsky was giggling as he gave him another kiss.  He looked at Hutch then swiped at his mouth.  “Oops.  Sorry.  Must’ve bit my lip.” He thumbed away a small smear of blood from Hutch’s lip. 

 

“I think I bit your lip,” Hutch said contritely.  “Sorry.  I didn’t expect to be thrown to the floor when I kissed you.”  He took Starsky’s face in his hands and pulled him close, licking and kissing at the tiny wound, tasting his blood.  Starsky soon moaned, strengthening the kisses, his tongue exploring deep.  Hutch felt Starsky’s hand unzipping his jeans, and the feel of Starsky’s hot hand wrapping around his hard cock.  He moaned as Starsky stroked him, and Starsky started to pull away from him.  He gripped him tighter, keeping him very close.

 

Starsky smiled and whispered against Hutch’s lips.  “I want to suck you.  I want to taste you.”  Hutch released his hold on him.

 

Moving down between Hutch’s legs, Starsky reached under him and grabbed the back pockets of his jeans, dragging the pants down to his thighs.  Starsky kissed Hutch’s penis as he softly fondled his testicles, licking and sucking at the vein that runs the length of his shaft.  Hutch was overwhelmed.  He cried out, “Christ!” as he thrust forward uncontrollably.  Starsky licked at the rim of the head, as he moved his hand to Hutch’s perineum, stroking him as he laved the head of his penis with his tongue.  Hutch’s passions were consuming him, as his excitement increased.  Starsky sucked Hutch’s cock into his hot, wet mouth, and right down to the hilt.  “Starsk!” Hutch gasped, as his ability for thought fled.

 

Starsky continued to stoke Hutch’s perineum as he went down on him, then slid his finger over to circle Hutch’s anus.  He had never felt stimulation like this, and it both shocked and thrilled him.  Hutch began to tremble; he was getting close.   Starsky began to push at Hutch’s opening with his finger, applying pressure, and Hutch exclaimed, “Oh God!”  Starsky finger breached the opening, slipping inside him, and Hutch came.  Pleasure exploded through him as he once again cried Starsky’s name.

 

Starsky climbed up his body and curled up against him, in the crook of his arm.  Starsky’s arm was around his chest, Starsky’s leg thrown over his. 

 

As the passion cooled in his veins, and the pleasure began to fade, Hutch smiled.  “Fantastic,” he murmured.  “Why the hell didn’t we do this sooner?”

 

Chuckling, Starsky declared, “Oh yeah.  This is definitely a permanent change.”

 

Hutch drew Starsky’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of his hand.   “I second that.”

 

_~The End~_

__


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